


Popsicles

by SloanGreyMercyDeath



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - They're younger? Like Mid-20s, F/F, Popsicles, Sexy Times, lots of licking, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-27
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-24 16:25:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13814994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SloanGreyMercyDeath/pseuds/SloanGreyMercyDeath
Summary: Shaw has a broken AC Unit and Root has too many popsicles.





	Popsicles

“It’s hot,” Shaw says to herself as she stares out the window at the New York City landscape. “It’s so fucking hot.”

The trees outside move in a breeze. When it hits her, the breeze is warm and clings to her sweat instead of whisking it away. It is still hours from sunset and the crappy AC unit she’d bought for her apartment is broken. It had lasted two sweltering June days before biting the dust.

Shaw pulls her tank top over her head, leaving just her bra and underwear. She’d woken up in her normal pajamas, but it is too hot for clothing today. Trying to decide if the open window is helping or hurting, she looks down into the parking lot below.

The tall woman in 4B is sitting on her motorcycle, four plastic grocery bags hanging from the handles. Shaw wonders if the woman bought anything cold or if her apartment had Air Conditioning. The woman pulls her helmet off and long brown hair spills out, somehow perfect despite the humidity.

“How?” Shaw mumbles, feeling two sweat drops race down her back. “That’s a leather jacket.”

Even from the fifth floor, Shaw can see the woman smile and remembers that she thinks the woman is a spy. They’ve never formally met, but whenever they share an elevator, the woman smells like welding and something even more metallic – blood. She also smelled like apples.

“She’s too young to be a spy,” Shaw reminds herself. “Probably just an art student.”

The woman is around Shaw’s age and Shaw had just moved to the city to go to med school at Columbia. She is only 22 and the woman in 4B with a motorcycle can’t be more than 25. Shaw knows that even if the woman was recruited at 18, she wouldn’t be a full-fledged spy by 25. She could be a spy-in-training though.

Shaw watches as the woman pulls out her phone and texts with long, delicate fingers. It had been a while since Shaw had slept with anybody and the young woman in 4B was very attractive. Shaw is willing to bet she has some muscle on that skinny frame. If they do it in the shower, they can adjust the temperature to keep from overheating.

“I bet she has a taser,” she mutters, resting her hands on the windowsill. “I bet she’s into some weird stuff.”

The woman’s head turns to look at her and Shaw jerks back into the apartment. Had the woman heard her? Rolling her eyes, Shaw slams the window shut and heads for the kitchen. Her feet slide against the wooden floors, slick with sweat. Every time her knees bend, sweat gathers and makes her skin stick together. She hates the heat.

Opening the fridge with a pop, she shoves her head inside. There is almost no food on the shelves, just some milk and several clear plastic containers of pre-made lunches. She needs a job. Her scholarship pays for tuition and housing, but she is living off her savings for food. Maybe the grocery store will hire her. She can fake personable.

The cold from the fridge makes her shiver and she sighs, relaxing. The corner store sells popsicles and ice cream and she can almost justify the cost. If she passes out from heat exhaustion, she can’t do her homework and if she doesn’t do her homework, her grades will drop and she’ll lose her scholarship.

Her skin adjusts to the refrigerator’s cool air and she lets the door swing shut. One step to the left, and she pulls the freezer door open. The icy air hits her like a blessing and she steps forward, leaning her body against the bags of ice she’s stuffed inside. She has an intense workout planned and she’ll need an ice bath afterwards. It feels so good on her skin, she’s tempted to just bath in it now.

There’s a knock at her door and she steps back, closing the freezer. Who could it be? She moves to the front door, only a few steps from the kitchen, and rises onto her toes to look out the peephole. It’s the woman from 4B. Shaw blinks and reaches down to unlock the door.

The wood door is swollen from humidity and it takes her a moment to yank it open. Shaw stands in the doorway, looking up at her downstairs neighbor. The woman drags her eyes over Shaw’s body and Shaw remembers that she’s almost naked. Instead of backing down, she gives the woman a once over, pleasantly surprised to see a box of popsicles clutch in her hand.

“Can I help you?” Shaw asks, not caring that her voice sounds flat.

The woman jumps slightly and grins. “I bought too many popsicles,” she says, her voice light. “I thought I saw you in the window and figured you might like some. It’s really hot today.”

The smile stays fixed to the woman’s face and her hand comes up, shaking the box of popsicles. Shaw wants to say no and slam the door, but she really wants popsicles and if the woman was a spy, it would be a bad idea to make her an enemy. The invitation justified, Shaw sighs and slides to the side, holding her arm out and letting the woman in.

“Wow,” the woman says, chuckling, “nice place. Homey.”

Shaw snorts as she closes the door, using her shoulder to push it into place. Her apartment is almost empty. In the living room, there’s a lamp, a couch, a tv on a crate, and an Xbox. Turning, Shaw sees the woman lingering near the window, her ankles crossed and hands tapping on the box of popsicles.

“Can I get you something?” Shaw asks in an attempt to be hospitable. Maybe if she seems nice, the woman will sleep with her. “I have…Uh…Milk.”

The woman laughs. “No, thank you. I don’t think milk and popsicles mix well.”

“Probably not,” Shaw begrudgingly agrees. “I’ll just take a popsicle then.”

“Right!” The woman crosses to the kitchen, dropping the box on the counter and pouring out the contents. “There are a few different flavors, so you can choose.”

Shaw scratches her arm for a moment before walking to the kitchen. The woman is still in her leather jacket and Shaw is practically naked. She doesn’t like feeling disadvantaged. Stopping in front of the woman, she holds her hand out.

“I’m Sameen. Shaw. Call me Shaw.”

The woman takes her hand, skin cold against Shaw’s burning palm. Her eyes crinkle, like she thinks it’s a funny name and Shaw bristles. She opens her mouth to defend herself, but the woman starts speaking.

“I’m Root,” she says, shaking Shaw’s hand. “Call me Root.”

Shaw raises an eyebrow at the one word name, but she lets it slide. If Root doesn’t make fun of her name, she won’t make fun of Root’s. She notices that Root doesn’t let go of her hand immediately and thinks she might have a chance of getting laid after all. Root’s hand begins to grow warm and Shaw pulls hers away.

“You can take your jacket off,” Shaw says, pulling her hair down. “I don’t know how you’re wearing it.”

“I’m from Texas,” Root says with a laugh. She starts to pull her leather jacket off, revealing a sleeveless dress shirt. “It takes more than heat to faze me.”

Shaw nods and reties her hair into a knot on her head. Without the jacket, Root seems more like a normal girl and less like a spy. She still smells like metal and smoke and blood, but at least she looks less suspicious. Root pushes her hair behind her ear as she looks down at the popsicles and Shaw notices her black nail polish.

As much as she wants that hand wrapped around her throat, she tries to come up with a non-sexual reason for Root to bring her popsicles. Shaw had made the mistake of assuming situations were sexual before and if Root was a spy, she didn’t want to end up in a back room somewhere. Root glances up at her and winks.

Shaw looks down at the popsicles and reminds herself that sometimes girls are just friendly and she and Root share an elevator almost every day. Maybe Root is just being neighborly. Maybe Root just wants a friend in the building. Maybe Root just wants to fuck.

In their opaque white wrappers, most of the popsicles look the same. Root’s shoulder bumps into Shaw, their bare skin sticking together with sweat. Her hand appears in Shaw’s field of vision, digs around in the popsicles, and picks one up. The wrapper is loud as she opens it and reveals a red popsicle. It smells sickly sweet and Shaw randomly grabs one for herself.

When she unwraps it, it’s purple, not red. She can’t decide if she’s disappointed, but one lick tells her the grape popsicle is good enough. She glances at Root and her body freezes.

The red popsicle slides up Root’s tongue and Shaw watches as her lips close around the colored ice. Her cheeks tighten as she sucks with a soft slurp and her throat moves as she swallows. Shaw’s eyes are fixed to Root’s mouth, watching her slowly pull the popsicle out from between her lips. The last inch leaves with a small pop and Shaw is mesmerized.

“Your popsicle is melting,” Root says, pulling her back to the present.

Shaw blinks and clears her throat, turning on her heel and marching into the living room. Her grape popsicle is melting quickly, colored water pooling on her hand. She raises her hand to her mouth, drinking the water. When the immediate danger has passed, she wraps her tongue around the base of the popsicle, sucking up the condensation.

It takes her a moment to lick the entire thing, but once she’s sure it’s not going to drip, she looks back at Root. She’s still in the kitchen, staring at Shaw across the small apartment. Root’s cheeks are flushed, the heat finally affecting her. Her eyelids flutter and she smiles nervously.

“Sorry,” she breathes, eyes refocusing. “I…got distracted.”

Shaw finally accepts that Root is here for sex and smirks. She keeps her eyes on Root and puts the tip of her dark, purple popsicle on her tongue, swallowing with her mouth open. Running a hand along the bottom of her bra, she closes herlipsaround the popsicle, slowly pushing it into her mouth.

Her lips feel cold and she has to swallow again as the flavor makes her mouth water. Root’s popsicle is still against her lips, but it’s started to drip to the floor and she doesn’t seem to notice. Her eyes are wide as she watches Shaw suck and Shaw knows that she’s got Root. She starts to walk back to the kitchen, slowly stalking forward.

Root’s eyes are glued to Shaw’s mouth and Shaw pulls the popsicle from her lips, taking her time. When she gets to the counter, Shaw is ready to pounce, but Root drops her popsicle, hands grabbing Shaw’s waist in a second. Shaw is jerked forward, barely able to pull her popsicle out of the way before Root’s mouth is crashing against her own.

Root’s lips are cold from the ice and Shaw is sure that hers are the same. Sweat pours down Shaw’s back as Root digs her fingernails into Shaw’s sides. Sliding her fingers between Root’s buttons, Shaw tears her shirt open and presses her hands against Root’s firm stomach. There is muscle after all and Shaw is looking forward to seeing just how much.

Her head is pushed to the side and Root dips down to drag her teeth along Shaw’s neck. It’s almost too much in the suffocating heat and Shaw twists the front of her bra, unclasping it, and pulling it open. Root’s attention is immediately diverted, and she lowers herself even further to pull a nipple into her mouth.

Shaw is too short for this to work and she pulls away. Root is panting, her eyes wide and wild. Pushing all the popsicles aside, Shaw hops up on the counter and reaches for Root’s shoulders, pulling her close. Their mouths meet again and Shaw groans. It’s been too long since she’s done this and maybe that’s why Root’s lips on her own feel so goddamn good.

She pushes her hands into Root’s hair, thinking she must have dropped her popsicle at some point, and yanks Root’s head back. Root’s lips are ripped away and she moans loudly. Good, Shaw thinks, Root likes it a little bit rough. Immediately, Root straightens again and forces Shaw to lie back on the counter, her back pushing painfully into the toaster.

Root really is stronger than she looks and it only makes Shaw want her more. Reaching around Shaw, Root takes a popsicle from the counter and rips the plastic open with her teeth. Her eyes are dark as she runs her tongue over the orange ice, melting the outside with her hot, panting breaths.

Shaw just sucks in air and watches her, hoping the popsicle will end up somewhere against her body soon. A second later, Root holds it out for her and Shaw sucks it between her lips, the taste making her mouth water and she swallows quickly. Slowly, Root drags the popsicle down Shaw’s chin, along her neck and between her breasts.

The cold makes Shaw’s nipples harden and her stomach jumps as the ice slides down the line between her abs. Root puts it down and Shaw closes her eyes, ready for whatever comes next. Root kisses her again, their tongues sliding together. Shaw is getting attached to Root’s kisses and she knows that’s a dangerous thing, but Root is intoxicating. Root pulls away and Shaw opens her eyes in time to see Root’s mouth hovering above her underwear.

Root’s tongue appears and licks just above the elastic waistband. The trail of colored water left by the popsicle disappears as Root’s tongue laps it up, inch by inch. When they get to Shaw’s breasts, the stop and take a detour to kiss each one. Shaw’s heart is racing at the way Root is taking her time. Root winks at her.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hours later, after they are finally exhausted and the sun is beginning to set, Shaw is laying on her stomach on the hard wood floor, the various bite marks on her body throbbing dully. Beside her, Root lies on her side, her hand slowly running down Shaw’s arm. They never made it to the shower, instead, choosing to just fuck on the counter and the couch and the floor.

Shaw feels like she needs that ice bath today after all. All of her muscles hurt and she’s pretty sure her lip hasn’t stopped bleeding. Root sighs loudly and rolls onto her back.

“It’s really hot in here,” she says, stretching her arms above her head. Her back arches off the floor and Shaw tries to decide if she can handle another round. “If we’re going to be doing this, you have to get an air conditioner.”

“I have one, but it’s broken,” Shaw answers before Root’s comment fully sets in. She pushes herself up onto her knees, sitting back. Her legs immediately start to overheat. “’doing this’? Is this going to be a regular thing?”

Root smiles at her. “I hope so. I haven’t found anyone so…willing before.”

Shaw rolls her eyes, understanding the implication. Root is really creative and very demanding and Shaw is definitely into it. “Fine, but this isn’t a relationship. We’re not going to go on dates or hold hands or anything.”

“That’s fine,” Root shrugs, her sweating shoulders moving with ease on the floor. “I’m pretty busy anyway. What did you say about AC?”

Shaw looks at her for a moment, trying to decipher what Root means by ‘pretty busy.’ A spy would be ‘pretty busy.’ After a minute, she decides that Root is so good at sex that she doesn’t care if she’s a spy or not.

“I have a window unit, but it’s broken. I put it away in my closet, so I could just open the window.”

Root sits up, grinning. “I can fix it! We’ll have this place as cool as a cucumber!”

She climbs to her feet and starts gathering her clothing. Shaw watches as she steps into her underwear, frowning.

“Why don’t we just do this at your place?” she asks, standing up. “Wouldn’t that be easier?”

“It would not,” Root laughs. She pulls her jeans on, hopping as she straightens the legs. “My apartment is off-limits.”

Shaw’s eyes narrow and she has to ask. “Are you a spy?”

“No,” Root answers, eyes dancing. “Even better. I’m an assassin.”

“Whatever,” Shaw sighs, lifting her hands. “You don’t have to answer. Just…go get your tools. I’ll pull out the unit.”

Root smiles at her, like Shaw said something cute and zips up her leather jacket. Her long legs cross the room in a few strides and she takes Shaw’s head in her hands. Her lips are soft against Shaw’s as she places a quick kiss.

“You’re cute. I’ll be right back.” She starts to walk away and turns around. “I’m going to bring my pajamas. I don’t know about you, but I have a lot of stamina.”

“Don’t worry,” Shaw smirks. “I can keep up.”

“Great! I’m looking forward to this evening.” She almost makes it to the door this time before turning back to Shaw. “I just remembered something. I was going to go see a movie at this little indie theater with a friend tonight, but if I have to fix this window unit, then I won’t know what time to tell her.”

Shaw frowned. “Ok?”

Grinning, Root put her hands on her hips. “Maybe when we’re done with the unit, you could come with me. Tonight is the last night and I really need to see this film.”

Crossing her arms, Shaw tries to think of a response. Going to a movie sounds an awful lot like a date, but Root was offering to fix her AC and she had just done some really great stuff to Shaw’s body. It wouldn’t kill her to see a movie; grad school took a lot of her time and she hadn’t taken a break recently.

“Ok,” Shaw says with gritted teeth, “but it is not a date.”

“Nope!” Root agrees, trying to hold back a grinning and failing. “It’s payment for the repairs and the…popsicles.”

Shaw scoffs and waves Root away with an already-sore arm. It is barely mid-June and Shaw is willing to bet the rest of the summer is going to be really interesting.


End file.
